You've been drinking like the world was gonna end
"Eeehhhh." Adam waved a noncommital hand before him. In another place, with far less weight in his chest and more people around, he'd have insisted he knew that; that he deserved a mansion and cash and anything else the world could give him. But really, he wondered sometimes if he even deserved to be alive anymore.
She assured him the bakery was nearby and he picked up his step a little, anticipation of a soon to be rest giving him a bit more energy. "Me? Oh, uh. I live in a guy's farmhouse out in the fields. Nate, he's called. Grumpy guy, but he lets me stay in the room and only gets annoyed at me a few times a day, sooooo..." He shrugged.
"I've been thinking about getting my own place, but uh...I've never had one, so I think it might feel kinda weird." He'd always lived out of a bag or a rented room, on a horse or in an abandoned carriage. A house felt like far too much room, far too much of anchor.
Adam
It didn't.
